


Magnus Bane and the day he lost all respect and was ultimately betrayed by his own son

by tothetrashwhereibelong



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Magnus Bane Speaks Intermediate Spanish, Magnus Bane is extra, Raphael Santiago Is A Little Shit, With a little bit of fluff, happy birthday may i love u, just silly goofy father and son shenanigans, literally this is so stupid, that's it just crack, the melodrama in this is off the charts you've been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothetrashwhereibelong/pseuds/tothetrashwhereibelong
Summary: This is the story of the day that changed Magnus Bane's life forever, a day that would stain the rest of his life. A day that would still be brought up centuries later, in the form of gag gifts, jokes, and other displays of blatant disregard for his dignity. This is the day when his relationship with Raphael changed, without chance of going back.
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Raphael Santiago, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (mentioned)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 127





	Magnus Bane and the day he lost all respect and was ultimately betrayed by his own son

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Izzybi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izzybi/gifts).



> Feliz cumpleaños may!!! You said you wanted me to make this so I did dasddsajhaad it's dumb and messy but I hope you like it anyway. Love you lots

It’s a Sunday, when it happens.

Magnus has lived through a lot of fatidic days. The day of his mother’s death, the day he banished Asmodeus, the day he met Ragnor, the day he met Catarina, the day he met Camille. The day he met Raphael, and the countless, countless days when the world was about to end. The day that Idris burned up until it didn’t, the day that Magnus saved the world, and was then saved back by it. Some of them, he could tell from the beginning would be fatidic; there was something all around him, something like the smell of smoke and the faint whispers of rushed voices in the air, his magic tingling as if in warning, as if ready to jump out and attack someone. Some of them already started in Hell itself, rough as sand in his lungs, suffocating like the sunless heat. 

But nothing beats the ultimate betrayal of having a day start normal as if nothing is wrong. 

This sunday is a sunday like any other. It’s a particularly good one, even; there are no clouds in the sky, for once, and he’s free not only of work, but of actual worries, for once. Alexander was coming back from a work trip, and before that, him and Raphael were having lunch together in his loft. He was happy. He had missed Raphael, nevermind that they talk at least once a week; it had been a while since Raphael had come to the loft, and even longer since he had cooked for him, which always made Magnus’ heart melt with pride and affection. 

Maybe that was the mistake. He let himself relax too much, he let his guard down, and then, the tables were flipped on him, a reminder that one is never, truly safe. Not even with those they love the most. 

He’s rummaging around the kitchen, watching softly as Raphael finishes chopping his vegetables. They’re silent, Raphael’s brows furrowed in concentration, but it’s a comfortable, shared silence where they can both fit easily, together. Magnus knows not to bother Raphael when he’s preparing the food; he knows he hyperfocuses on it, gets lost in the smells, tastes, textures. There’s a beautiful, delicate sort of aura around him and his cooking, where he is fully safe, in his element. 

He’s humming to himself a little bit, sometimes mumbling a thing or another in Spanish as he cooks - it never fails to happen. Spanish and cooking are both languages Raphael carries in his heart, and they get tangled up together as one in moments like this. They’re complementary. One and the same. 

It’s then that it happens. It doesn’t even come with a mood disruption; oh no. It progresses naturally, as if nothing was about to happen, the illusion of safety still perfectly in place even as the events that will bring his doom are set into motion. Raphael finishes chopping the last of the carrots, opens the drawer, frowns a little, and goes, _dónde está…_

Magnus glances around, realizing what happened. Him and Alexander had recently gotten in the mood to reorganize, and with that, the wooden spoons were moved from one drawer to another on the other side of the kitchen. That must be what Raphael is looking for.

That would be his last chance to save himself. Only, if only he had known.

It’s unsurprising; he’s always been told that kindness was his Achille’s heel. He’s always argued that kindness is strength, that caring for others is an act of courage, but this is the day when he must yield that his critics could be right. This is the day that Magnus’ overly big heart finally turns against him.

Not wanting to disrupt Raphael’s mood further than necessary, Magnus tries to talk to him in his own language, so he’s not forcibly yanked from his space, like he usually seems to be. It is out of nothing but selflessness, kindness, and love, that Magnus does it.

He says, “¿quieres una cucaracha?”

And that’s when the mood finally stills. How cruel it is, that his only warning is given only after there’s no going back. 

Raphael turns to him, frowning, purses his lips, and says, “what?”

“¿Quieres una cucaracha?” Magnus repeats, in his innocence and naivety, fully believing that Raphael, not having heard him, simply wanted a clarification. 

Raphael smiles, dangerously close to a snort. “ _What?_ ” he asks again, with feeling, unable to contain the mirth in his eyes.

“A spoon?” Magnus elaborates, lost, “aren’t you looking for the spoons?” 

Raphael truly, actually snorts this time, covering his mouth with his hand briefly as he shakes in what is clearly laughter. “Una _cuchara_ ,” he says, leaning against the counter to keep himself from laughing, to no avail. 

“Same thing,” Magnus answers, trying not to flush. It’s been a while since he’s spoken any Spanish, sure, and it’s a little rusty, but it’s no reason for Raphael to be making fun of him like this. He just added a syllable. And switched other two. A small mistake. Normal. Barely anything at all. 

If possible, Raphael starts laughing _harder_. It would normally be a beautiful sight, his son so happy and carefree, laughing loudly and with abandon in his kitchen. But good things don’t come for Magnus. Even this little taste of happiness must come twisted, destroyed until it’s barely recognizable and turned against him.

And then he stops laughing just enough for him to be able to say, “you just asked me if I wanted a cockroach.” 

Then he breaks into laughter again, like the effort of stopping long enough to so kindly inform Magnus why he was being thoroughly made fun of in his own home. Magnus feels himself flushing, trying to gather the rest of his dignity as Raphael continues to destroy it at every passing second.

“It’s not _that_ funny,” he mumbles, even as Raphael clearly disagrees. 

“Yeah, no, you’re right, sorry, let me just gather my cockroaches and I’ll get right back to cooking,” Raphael says, having the nerve to _wipe_ a _tear_ from his _eyes_. 

“I was trying to _help_ ,” Magnus says, pointing a finger at him. 

“I never said you weren’t?” Raphael challenges, grinning at him in a way that makes Magnus wish he was baring his fangs. The betrayal would sting less. “I’m glad I can count on you if I ever need-” 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“-Cockroaches.” 

Magnus, as Raphael knew would happen, does nothing to defend himself. He can only watch in shock as Raphael flaunts the dead and rotten corpse of the respect he once had for Magnus. 

He has no choice. He pouts. He knows Raphael is no Alexander, but he still tries it. A desperate measure from a desperate man.

“Sorry, sorry,” Raphael says, and Magnus can’t believe his ears, “I guess it _bugged_ me that you got the word wrong.” 

Magnus gapes at him. “You hate puns!” He accuses, although he can’t really tell. Was that a lie too? Did he even know Raphael at all? Had he truly changed beyond recognition? 

“And you love them, so I figured it would cheer you up,” he answers, way too innocently. 

“That’s it, I’m not telling you where the spoons are.” Using _puns_ against Magnus is way too much. He might have no dignity, no respect, and no son anymore, but he will never recover if he loses his puns. 

“Okay, then I’m going to call Alec and ask him.” 

“ _You never talk to Alec!_ ” 

“Yes, and he really wants me to like him, so he’s going to tell me.” 

“He won’t if I tell him not to!”

“He already has your love. I have more leverage.” 

“I’m his _husband_.” 

“Tell me where the cockroaches are, unless you want to lose.” 

“I’m sending you back to your clan.” 

“And what will you eat then?” 

“I can conjure up literally anything in the world.” 

“Even your roaches?” 

“ _It was a mistake!_ ”

*

Raphael makes soup, and asks him if he wants a cucaracha as he sets the table. 

Magnus is never free from it again.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is dumb, but comments are appreciated anyway


End file.
